


A Bump on the Head

by foreignobjecticus



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Amnesia, Biting, Crack, Crack Relationships, F/M, Scratching, so much crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreignobjecticus/pseuds/foreignobjecticus
Summary: Servalan suffers temporary amnesia and, as we find out, if you strip away her memories, there's just an unrestrained nymphomaniac underneath. Set some time post 1x06 Seek Locate Destroy.
Relationships: Vila Restal/Servalan
Kudos: 3





	A Bump on the Head

**Author's Note:**

> Why. _Why._ As is blindingly obvious, this is only the second time I've written het smut. _*Deep, unrestrained sigh*_

“Another day, another stupid bloody base to blow up,” Vila muttered as he jogged down the empty corridor, Liberator gun outstretched. It still felt unwieldy to him, and his natural instinct to use the thing like a periscope to look around corners hadn’t been shot out of him yet. It was only their third time infiltrating a Federation base, and Vila _hated_ it. It didn’t get any easier like Blake said it would! The poor thief wouldn’t even have come down if Blake hadn’t thrown a satchel of charges over his shoulder and practically dragged him into the teleport bay, carrying on about some installation or other that they had to blow up. Vila hoped this wasn’t going to be a taste of life ahead for them, but something told him not to hold his breath.

“Blake. Ground level is clear,” their Fearless Leader’s voice came through quiet on the bracelet on his wrist, set low in case of guards. “Move down to sub-levels. Remember, once we’re below surface, we’ll be out of teleport range. Confirm.”

 _Here we go_ , Vila thought to himself and tightened his grip on his gun. Confirmations chimed through his bracelet.

“Vila- _Vila!_ ”

“What?”

“Did you get those instructions?” Blake hissed through the bracelet and Vila grimaced, setting his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, confirmed. Lower levels, out of range, where it’s not safe and we can’t escape. Got it.”

Blake didn’t reply, and Vila cut the channel, shaking his head.

“ _I’ve got a horrible feeling about this…_ ”

Turning back the way he came, Vila wound his way down a tight metal staircase, careful not to let his footfalls echo – in the concrete halls of the base, it would be only too easy to give himself away. As he skipped down lightly, Vila felt a little pride well in him – say what you like about his work ethic; Vila Restal, best thief in the Delta domes, was damned good at what he did best. It was just that he didn’t want to have to _do it_ if at all possible.

Energised by his little display, Vila moved a faster down the corridors of sublevel one, and as he turned a corner, he stumbled headlong into a pack of Federation troopers. With quick reflexes, he dove into another side corridor just as they fired a salvo of energy shots.

“Damn it, Blake – this was _your_ stupid idea!” he cursed and scrambled to his feet, sweeping up his satchel of charges and hurrying down the maze of corridors, troopers hot on his heels. Turning left and right at random, Vila ran until he was gasping for breath, a vicious stitch in his side. Tripping, he jostled his bag, and a stray charge dropped unseen. Activated, the mechanism began to tick, but Vila had already hurled himself into the nearest deserted-looking room. Slamming the door shut, he activated the lock with a flick of the probe from his sleeve. When it clicked and confirmed it was shut, he turned, slumped against the door, and breathed a sigh of relief.

With his eyes closed and back to the door, he listened carefully as the guards ran past without stopping. They would be back, after all, but at least he had some time now. All he had to do was set some charges, double back, and slip back to ground level where he could teleport up, job well done. Vila smiled sagely and opened his eyes.

“Get against the wall,” a woman with short, dark hair and a viper glare held her gun aimed at Vila’s heart, “hands up.”

Vila’s hands shot up in an instant.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he yammered in a panic, stepping across to the bare wall. “No need to do anything drastic. My hands are empty, see!”

Behind him, he felt the woman’s gun jab into his back and Vila pressed himself against the cold concrete, terror clawing through him. This was it.

“Put them flat on the wa-”

Before she could finish speaking, a great explosion rocked the room, blasting in the door from the outside. The woman was thrown sideways with Vila, the doorway shattered and collapsed, and pieces of concrete and stone rained down on them. One flat piece bounced against the woman’s skull, knocking her unconscious, while Vila dragged himself under the corner of the nearest table where he was safe from the debris and shielded his satchel with his body. The gun in the woman’s hands skidded across the floor and was crushed by rubble. In the space of a few seconds, it was over, and Vila remained still under his table for a long time. He tugged his shirt up over his nose to stop himself from breathing in the swirling white dust, and when it had settled, he climbed out carefully from his hiding place.

Vila’s heart sank when he took in his surroundings properly. The door he’d come in through was totally gone; nothing but a pile of rubble and twisted metal barred his way out. Behind him, the rest of the room was a bitter disappointment. It was a control room, at least – it looked like what Blake had wanted them to target, if there was any point blowing it up more – but the room itself was _tiny_ , and there wasn’t so much as a maintenance shaft left to escape from, let alone another door. Turning around, he glanced briefly at the unconscious woman lying on the floor, sparing little thought for her, and then gave the destroyed wall one more look and sighed, sinking onto the dusty desk beside him hopelessly. He was _stuck_.

//Vila. We heard the explosion; we’re coming for you. Stay where you are.//

Cally’s voice rang through his mind, and Vila was simultaneously relieved and terrified; if Cally was calling him with her mind, it meant she was either in a hairy situation herself or-

Vila brought his bracelet up and pressed the comms button, but the signal bounced once, twice, three times. Just as he thought; it was dead, too far below concrete and steel for the signals to reach.

“Yeah, well…” he replied back to the room, knowing full well Cally wouldn’t hear him. “Not much chance of me leaving, is there?”

“What…?”

“G _ah-!_ ”

At the sound emanating from the rubble, Vila sprang from the desk, landing awkwardly on some stones and stumbling, backing away to the clear side of the room. Only when he saw the woman on the floor beginning to move did he realise just how stupid he’d been. Vila watched for a few moments as the woman coughed, brushing dust from her eyes and hair, and slowly began to drag herself up. There was no gun in her hands and she was therefore significantly less of a threat than before, but Vila couldn’t bring himself to come forwards to help; his good humour had been knocked straight out of him, replaced by fear and a nasty adrenaline rush that was making him terribly anxious. His _fight or flight_ response had been reduced to just one option. In a pinch, now she was disarmed, Vila could probably take her, but-

The woman stood up to full height and dusted herself off with a few indignant coughs, wiping her cheeks although her face had stayed mostly clean. Now that Vila could see her properly, he realised just how beautiful the woman was. She was dressed in a fine, white gown with blood-red lips and nails, all offset by the inky darkness of her short-cropped hair and deep, glittering eyes. She was clearly an Alpha of some sort, Vila could tell, and she didn’t look like she belonged here in a Federation outpost so far away from civilisation. She wasn’t made for hard labour; in fact, the thought of such a woman wielding a gun with her dainty white hands seemed not a little perverse.

Gazing all around the room, the woman took in her surroundings, and a look of shock rapidly turned her features harsh, eyes widening in fear for a reason Vila couldn’t quite fathom. Yes, they were stuck, but-

“You have to help me!”

Vila snorted.

“Oh, that’s nice coming from someone who was holding me at gunpoint only a minute ago!”

“Was I?” the woman asked, and the genuine confusion in her voice threw Vila until he recalled the stone that had knocked her out. But it couldn’t have made her forget _that_ easily?

“You don’t remember?” he asked tentatively, inching closer to the woman who looked as if she were ready to burst into tears at any moment.

“No, I don’t…” The woman’s bottom lip wibbled threateningly. Vila pinched his lips, unbending a little.

“Say that I believe you; if I come over there, are you going to clock me in the back of the head while I’m not looking, or whip out another gun from _\- somewhere_ \- and stick it in my ribs?”

“No. I promise,” she let out a half-laugh and smiled up at Vila, “I mean – I don’t even have a weapon…” she spread her hands, inviting Vila’s gaze downwards across her pert breasts and the inviting, feminine curves that her dress accentuated so well…

Vila cleared his throat.

“Yes, right. Good. Well-” he straightened his tunic and drew himself up to full height.

Suddenly, there was a rumble behind the woman and a part of the ceiling began to crack, bringing down a sizeable slab concrete beside the startled woman.

“Please! I don’t know where I am – you have to help me!” she darted forwards and latched onto Vila’s arm, squeezing her sharp nails through his tunic. _Maybe those hands aren’t quite so dainty after all._

“Alright, alright- _ah!_ ” he prised her fingers off and petted her hand soothingly. “Take it easy. I can take you back to Blake and he’ll help us get you out of here.” Vila gave the ceiling another glance, stepping back as more dust trickled down. “Once _we_ get out of here, that is.”

“How are we going to do that?” the woman asked, looking at the mess of concrete and stones and grimacing.

“It’s alright, uh- ” Vila tilted his head and gave a little nod, bolstering himself. “The- uh- _my_ crew are coming to rescue us. We just have to wait, maybe clear some of these rocks-”

Another slab fell down at their feet and Vila jerked them both away. If Blake didn’t hurry up, they’d be crushed to death before they escaped. With that in mind, Vila guided the woman in his arms back to the far end of the control room away from the dust and debris.

“Who are you?” he asked as he walked her back, stroking one of her hands and catching his sleeve on her sharp talon. He disentangled himself subtly. “What’s your name?”

The woman frowned for a moment, her pretty faced scrunched as if the question were as complex as a particle physics equation.

“Lachesis,” she finally decided with a nod of her dark-haired head. “My name is Lachesis. And- you are?”

“Vila,” he replied. “What are you doing on this base? You don’t look like someone from around here.”

Vila’s eyes raked over her square, petite shoulders and curving hips, right down to the shapely legs outlined by the tight material of her form-fitting white dress. She was only a little shorter than him, elevated by high heels, and so when she leaned in for a kiss, she hardly had to reach up at all.

“I-” Vila tried to speak when Lachesis pulled away after her first exploratory peck but, apparently liking what she’d found, the woman dove back in for a second taste and Vila was captured. She wrapped her talons around Vila’s neck, hooking him, and after a few seconds of obligatory resistance, Vila caved in. Leaning into the kiss, he was shocked when her tongue thrust its way past his lips and wrestled with his own, hungry and _dominating_. Fearing a sprain, Vila gave way and let the voracious woman have her way, licking and sucking like a starving animal until she was sated and he was left utterly breathless. When she finally surfaced for air, Vila found his chest heaving, heart thundering, and lips wet with the taste of the woman’s fruity, red lipstick. He wiped at his mouth slowly, disbelieving.

“I-”

“You’re a good kisser, Vila,” she gave a sultry grin and ran a sharp finger over Vila’s wet lip, tracing a smear of her lipstick caught on his skin.

“Am I? I didn’t do any work.”

Lachesis chuckled and sank closer to Vila, the soft mounds of her breasts pressed suggestively against his chest.

“Would you like a chance to?”

Vila’s brain ground to a halt.

For about three seconds. In which time, he weighed up the facts of his situation very, very carefully:

  1. He was trapped in a rebel base presumably already filled with explosives set to detonate at any time within the next half hour.
  2. He was trapped in a room with no exits and his friends were on their way to rescue him within the next twenty minutes.
  3. He was trapped with a devastatingly attractive and _voracious_ woman who had just offered herself to him for the next ten minutes.



Well, usually it would be a lot longer than ten minutes, but considering points one and two, and the fact that he hadn’t had so much as a handshake since the showers on the London, Vila wasn’t all that concerned about his overall performance.

But before he had a chance to respond, he found himself suddenly assaulted again by Lachesis’s claws picking apart the lower buttons on his tunic and diving in for the clasp on his belt without so much as a by your leave.

“What are you-?” Vila stuttered out stupidly and _gasped_ when a warm hand fished into his trousers and squeezed at his surprisingly-rigid cock. Evidently the past few minutes of mortal peril had done little to quell Vila’s interest in the whole situation, even if he was beginning to have doubts about the carnivorous woman attacking him in his most sensitives.

“Mmmm. Vila, you do not disappoint,” Lachesis murmured into Vila’s neck as she wrenched the band of his underwear down and guided his cock out to sit jutting from his open fly. Vila shuddered, unable to resist thrusting himself into her hand as she pumped him up. Lips sucked at his neck, tickling, tingling, laving a hot tongue over his skin until it mottled into bright red welts beneath her lips, and Vila began leaning in, losing himself in the feeling until teeth scraped across his Adam’s apple and a sharp nail raked up the underside of his straining cock.

“ _Shit!_ ” his eyes flew open wide and he tried to pull back bodily from Lachesis, but she grasped on tighter as he struggled.

“Oh Vila, darling, ssshhh-” she distracted him again with another aggressive kiss, sucking the air from his lungs. By the time Vila had a chance to breath again, his head was spinning and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was enjoying himself – but his cock was aching like the devil and when he looked down, he saw it throbbing, twitching, head flushed a deep red to match the nails wrapped so dangerously around it.

Vila felt himself pushed back a half-step, guided by the hand wrapped around the root of his cock, and he threw his hands back as he collided with a console. His arse pressed against the angled panel, jamming into him painfully.

“Touch me,” Lachesis commanded, grasping one of Vila’s wrists in her own free hand and guiding him up to the low neckline of her dress. Vila swallowed hard and cupped her breast, thumb rolling her nipple through the surprisingly thin fabric of her white dress. He hefted the weight against his palm, pressing, and his other hand came up to join in. Vila squeezed again, lifting her chest up, forcing the soft breasts upwards and deepening the cleft between them, making a tantalising valley on her chest. A hand wrapped around the base of his skull, and Vila let his head be guided down.

“ _Ohhh-_ ” she moaned with delight as Vila’s tongue swept across the tops of her breasts, and Vila felt her hum beneath his lips, vibrating. His fingers wrapped around the top of her strapless dress and he tugged the material down roughly – earning a growl of pleasure from Lachesis – and latched on to her nipple, sucking hard and running his tongue around the peak in tight, agonising circles.

“ _More!_ ” she cried above him and Vila sucked harder, encouraged by the hand pressing him harder and harder to her chest until he thought he might suffocate. As far as ways to die went, death by asphyxiation on a pair of nice tits was ranked fairly high on Vila’s list, but he wasn’t entirely ready to die today. Instead of pulling back (which only made Lachesis cram his head harder against her), Vila took a risk and _bit_. Gently at first – he didn’t want to hurt her, of course – but then harder, teeth scraping against her swollen red nipple almost savagely, and Lachesis _squealed._

“ _Gods, yes, Vila!_ ”

The woman practically wailed and hurled herself against Vila’s body. Ruching up her dress, she ground herself shamelessly against Vila’s hard, leaking cock, and Vila felt her damp lacy underwear scrape against his sensitive head over and over and _over._ He shivered, groaning, and although some huge part of him felt wrong with this and the entire situation, he couldn’t help himself when he grabbed at her slender hips and ran his fingers in the valley of her hipbone down to the smooth, shaved, _wet_ skin-

“On the desk, on the desk, come on!”

Lachesis’s patience seemed to suddenly snap, having lost control for almost twenty seconds, and she reigned Vila back in with a tongue against his sore neck and a sharp spider-hand around his cock. 

“Alright, I’m going!” Vila ran his hands down behind her thighs, hoisting her up. Wrapping her legs tightly around Vila’s waist, Lachesis ground herself into Vila’s crotch as he waddled clumsily to a cleaner-looking desk and let her arse down onto the cold, hard surface. She yelped and grinned.

“That’s cold,” Lachesis’s hands reached behind her and she swept away stray papers enthusiastically. “Why don’t you warm me up?” she leaned back and spread her legs, one finger reaching between the folds of her sodden underwear. She pulled back the material, revealing her hairless, glistening cunt, and in one swift movement had her underwear off her legs.

Now, honestly, Vila had had a wealth of experience with women before back in the Delta domes, and they certainly didn’t make them modest and coy like the handful of Alphas he’d had the pleasure of knowing, but this Lachesis… she _had_ to be an off-worlder. No woman from Earth could be as brazen as this, and yet-

“Are you just going to stand there all night watching or are you going to help a girl out?”

Caught, like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Giving himself a shake, Vila wrapped a hand around his obviously-straining cock and gave himself a few pumps, biting his bottom lip as he slipped his other hand into his trousers and freed his balls, tugging them over the waistband of his pants. Lachesis practically salivated at the sight, and she ran her hands down the insides of her thighs, nails scratching pink lines into her skin as she went. With her legs still wrapped around Vila’s waist, she squeezed her thighs, pulling Vila in tight, and his cock jabbed into her soft skin.

“Impatient…” Vila gathered his wits and leaned down to capture Lachesis’s lips in a kiss with every intention of dominating this time but, just as before, found himself surrendering under the sheer force of the woman’s lips. Lachesis sucked and she reeled Vila the rest of the way in, guiding one of his hands to her folds while the other made him grasp at her pert breast, and her legs tightened around his waist savagely. _This must be what it’s like to make love to a particularly enthusiastic octopus_ , Vila thought with one of the few remaining braincells he possessed.

And then stopped thinking and pulled Lachesis’s dress down again, squeezing one breast, pinching her nipple hard while his other hand worked his fingers into her smooth, sodden cunt, and she responded greedily, moaning into Vila’s mouth. One finger slid in, then two, and then three in quick succession, meeting very little resistance, and Lachesis rocked against his hand, bearing down on his wrist painfully, demanding more between kisses.

“Vila- _come on_ , take me-” Lachesis begged, hot breath across Vila’s lips, and she spread her thighs. Gently guiding Vila’s hand out of her, she directed him to grasp his own cock. Slick with her wetness, Vila ran his fingers over his cockhead teasingly, lined himself up, and _pushed_. As he sank in, he bit back a groan, listening to the needy moans and gasps he was wringing from the woman beneath him. And then Lachesis _growled_ , thrusting her hips up to meet Vila’s, and her talons latched on to his waist. With one sharp tug, Vila was speared into her.

“ _Gods-_ ”

“ _Yes… oh…_ ” Lachesis squirmed on his cock, rolling her hips upwards, grinding into his crotch. “More- _now­-_ harder!” she practically wailed, voice echoing in the concrete control room, and Vila was sure that if Blake and Cally hadn’t located the destroyed control room by now, they wouldn’t have trouble finding them.

Vila thrust faster and faster, slipping easily in and out of her welcoming heat, slamming himself down to the balls and slapping against the round edges of her pert arse, the sound slick and crude and wrong and _oh so good-_

Vila was lost, and as Lachesis scrambled to match Vila’s thrusts, he pounded harder, for once in his life not entirely caring whether he was hurting the person beneath him, not worrying whether they’d be bruised, or if he was going too fast or too deep or too hard. Lachesis only screamed, raking her nails over Vila’s hips and begging like a ten credit whore, panting and gasping, one hand diving between them and _oh shit he’d forgotten about that_ , and slapping aside Lachesis’s hand to roll her clit hard and punishing between his fingers _and-_

Vila’s muscles clenched and he squeezed his eyes shut, stars dancing across his vision as he pumped himself deep, emptying every last drop into Lachesis while she thrashed, trembling, biting her bottom lip hard like she suddenly felt the need to be quiet.

A mere few seconds later, Vila pulled out, and so began the awkward, interminable wait for rescue. With shaking hands, Vila stuffed himself roughly back into his trousers, zipped up, and looked into Lachesis’s eyes. Her sharp teeth bit into a dangerous smile.

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._ Stones trickled down the wall of rubble and a muffled voice called out from behind.

“ _Vila! Vila!_ ”

“That’s them!” Vila let Lachesis slide from his lap and they leapt towards the broken doorway. “I told you they’d find us. _We’re in here, Blake!_ ”

Debris shifted, crumbling under the blows of their rescuer’s pickaxes, and Lachesis cried in delight.

“We’re saved!” she laughed, turning her back to the wall of rocks and tilting her chin up for a kiss, manhandling Vila’s face to hers.

She captured Vila’s lips once more and suddenly shuddered, huffing out a breath into Vila’s mouth. Her compact body went slack and slumped gracelessly in Vila’s arms; a bloodied stone lay at her feet. Vila reached up and ran his fingers over the back of her head and felt hot, slick blood wetting her dark hair. 

“Vila, are you alright?” Blake’s head burst through the gap the rebels had hacked through the rubble, coughing as concrete dust billowed around his face. And then he went still.

“You’ve knocked her out again!” Vila exclaimed, staring at his hand in horror, and then fixing Blake with a worried grimace. “She’s bleeding!”

There was no response from the other man, and Vila’s panic curdled at the look of undisguised disgust in Blake’s face.

“Vila, drop her and let’s go, _now_.”

Blake started retreating through the hole in the wall, pulling away at a large block of concrete as he went.

“And just leave her here? She’s injured!”

“Forget her – she’d do the same for us. Federation troops are closing in!” he disappeared behind the rubble as the stone came free.

“We can’t just leave her!” Vila planted his feet and held Lachesis close to his torso, heedless of the blood smearing her dress – it wasn’t in the best shape anyway. “Give us your spare bracelet.”

“No-”

“Why not-”

Blake poked his head through the hole again, glancing behind him anxiously at the sound of distant energy weapon fire. When he looked back at Vila, his bellow was nearly drowned out by the sound of a discharge going off close behind him.

“Because that’s _SERVALAN!_ ”

Vila had never dropped anything so fast in his life.

“What were you two doing in there anyway?” Gan asked innocently as they strode behind the others onto the Flight Deck.

Vila ducked his head, splitting off to sit at his own console and peering intently at the scanners hoping some pursuit ships would fortuitously sneak up on them. But there was, miserably, nothing.

“Oh, I got lost setting the charges… you know how it goes. Every Federation base corridor looks the same when you’re running around like a maniac,” Vila chuckled thinly and practically wept with relief when Zen interrupted him.

+bonk+ _Incoming transmission from the lead pursuit ship stationed over Alpha-6._ +bonk+

Vila looked back towards the others and gulped. Blake frowned.

“Put it on the main screen, Zen.”

The crew looked across as Servalan’s face filled the screen, a few cuts and bruises on her skin but otherwise unharmed.

“This is Supreme Commander Servalan calling _Liberator_. Congratulations, Blake; your efforts have paid off, at least for the time being. Our central control for the Alpha-6 relay base has been rendered useless, _temporarily_ ,” she nodded with a cold smile, and then it froze to ice. “And as for your _secondary plans… well_ ,” behind her freshly-painted lips, her teeth set.

“I refer, of course, to the vile, degenerate treatment to which I was subjected at the hands of one of your crew… Mark my words _very well_ – you will pay for what you did, _Vila Restal_.”

The vizscreen faded to black and all eyes turned to the forward starboard console, but Vila’s chair was empty.


End file.
